


A Story Told

by redlipstickkisses



Series: Poems by Kai [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anger, Anxiety Disorder, Body Dysphoria, Creation, Depression, Gen, I am not in good mental health and I wrote this on a bad day, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Drowning, Mermaids, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slam Poetry, You Have Been Warned, personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipstickkisses/pseuds/redlipstickkisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone once told me, that mermaids were the souls of people who died at sea</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story Told

Someone once told me, that mermaids were the souls of people who died at sea,

Their salt stripped throats calling out,

_Come to us,_

_Join us,_

As they smile with sharp teeth,

And kiss the breath back into your lungs.

 

As you can tell I was never the most popular kid at school.

And some of you may nod your heads,

And say that you understand.

But you don’t.

 

You see I was _never_ the most popular kid at school.

I was always too deep in my own head,

And sure I had friends,

But it felt like my thoughts were holding me captive.

 

Like my dreams of tomorrow were tying themselves around my throat.

Like the future only I could see was a hangman's rope.

My hope turning my happiness sour as my expectations plummeted,

Like a sinking stone.

 

And every time I tried to explain that,

No one seemed to understand me.

 

No one seemed to understand that for me creating is a compulsion.

 

I can never sit back and go,

Yeah, this is good enough for me.

I have to constantly be moving forward.

And it feels like at some point my imagination left the rest of me behind.

I’m being held prisoner in my own mind,

In a world that I don’t really like.

A world that asks me _why can’t you just be content?_

As it tries to snuff the magic out of me.

 

But I can’t stop.

 

If I could I wouldn’t have been the five year old who told everyone we were singing about the plague,

You know the kid.

I wouldn’t have voluntarily stood at the end of the line because I _knew_ that I dragged my feet.

Too caught up in another world to pay attention.

In fourth grade I practiced my ballet routine to the rap songs my classmates were playing at our end of the year party.

When I was nine I threw myself into learning about the past because I had realize that people didn’t care about the future,

They only cared about tomorrow.

 

I was always _that kid_ at school,

And part of the blame lies with me.

But most of it is on the shoulders of people who couldn’t stand to hear things that were so  different.

 

Because the best way to hurt someone isn’t to tell them to shut up.

The best way to kill an idea isn’t to shoot it down.

It's to not listen.

You're not listening.

No one's listening.

Can’t you hear me screaming?

 

No that’s not just the wind.

Thats your wishful thinking.

Liking to pretend,

That everyone can learn to swim by diving right into the deep end.

Well I hate to break it to you,

But some of us are scared of water.

 

And a group of people might as well be a sea to me.

I feel like I’m drowning,

And you're just standing there frowning going,

**Try harder.**

At what?!

Obviously I’m not breathing in enough water for your tastes.

 

And every day you call me daughter,

It feels like you’ve found another chink in my armor.

Every day the water washes a little more away.

 

Someone once told me, that mermaids were the souls of people who died at sea,

Given a new life.

And a new voice.

 

I’m drowning in my own skin.

Does that qualify?


End file.
